


I Don't Know How

by FayeWildwood



Category: Legends of Tomorrow
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Depression, Lewis Snart's A+ Parenting, M/M, Married Couple, Mick and Amaya friendship, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel, Time Travel Bullshit, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, bitches being bitches, my poor baby Mick is all broken, post- doomworld, post-oculus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-09 23:35:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12286581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FayeWildwood/pseuds/FayeWildwood
Summary: After Aruba, Mick starts hallucinating Len around the ship again, even starts talking to him randomly. He brushes it off when people ask him about it, but it gets harder and harder to ignore the fact that he might just be going crazy. He'd already confronted Stein the first time round that it happened and been told that there was nothing wrong, it was just grief. Why would this time be any different? He'd lost Len twice now, been betrayed by him twice now. God, couldn't their relationship ever had just been normal? Add in some trust issues from the crew and extremely unhealthy coping with Len's death, Mick was gearing up to blow.





	1. Starting Again

**Author's Note:**

> Because fuck the writers for ruining everything, I made it so Len WAS brainwashed by the evil trio, because no way he'd ever turn on Mick. Fuck that. Some warning for if you haven't seen Legends of Tomorrow- spoilers. This takes place AFTER the second season, but ignoring the new season that hasn't aired yet.

Leonard Snart and Mick Rory's relationship had never been normal. They'd met in juvie for crying out loud. They refused to put a label on it until ten years in when they convinced a judge to give them a marriage license along with their conviction. It was rare when they called each other husbands, and _never_  in front of others besides Lisa. They were just... partners, and on one had ever questioned that. Even on the Waverider, Gideon was the only one who knew how close the two thieves actually were.

Then Len had to go and be a hero and blow himself up to save Mick.

God, he'd been pissed and... broken. Mick never dealt well with grief, never handled loss well. He either completely ignored it to the point where it was downright unhealthy, or he went mad with it and became dangerous. Well he had a team who needed him now, people he could _almost_  trust. They couldn't afford him to be dangerous, not in the way he could get at least. So he ignored the pain. He drank away most of it, put the rest of it into his fist when they went on missions. No one seemed the wiser until Amaya showed up.

He liked her well enough. She was pretty to look at, nice to him, didn't think he was just dumb muscle. But it was the fact that she seemed to _know_  something was wrong that had Mick steering away from her. He couldn't afford anyone knowing, couldn't afford anyone seeing how broken he was inside because then they'll ask questions. They'll judge him for it. Not that he cared about being judged, but that meant drudging up memories he was trying to keep buried, reliving thoughts that he'd pushed so far away.

But remember when I said it could become unhealthy?

As if _seeing_  and _talking_  to Len around the ship- or a hallucination of him- wasn't enough, he had to come back, had to be brainwashed by the damn enemy. Mick had to fight him, again. They'd fucked everything up, and the team barely trusted him after he turned on them _again_  and started working with Len in the new world. But fuck, can you blame him? Len was there again, brainwashed as he was, and he was acting like nothing had happened, nothing had changed. His lips were just as soft when Mick kissed him, his hands were just as calloused as they traced down Mick's burns the way they always had. They were together again and Mick couldn't find it in himself to turn away, to leave. Not again. He couldn't bear it in himself to lose Len again. But he soon came to realize that it _wasn't Len._  Not his Len at least, this was a brainwashed Len, one so desperate to be evil. His Len at least had a moral compass, he cared about the little people, he tried not to hurt people who didn't deserve it, even before the Flash's little deal. This Len, he didn't seem to care about anything at all.

And of course, when he got back onto the Waverider and they'd headed to Aruba- crash landing in a shit storm the time stream had spat out- he felt so... left out. 

Don't get me wrong, Mick was used to being the odd man out. He was used to being ignored, being mistrusted. But this was his team, they were his friends, and he didn't know how to tell them _why_  he'd gone straight back to Len. They thought it was because Mick would always be bad, would always want to destroy. And sure, he had a destructive nature, but he cared about his team now, even dared to call them his friends. But he still couldn't find it in himself to tell them that Len was more than just his partner for the past twenty-seven years they'd been together.

Even Sarah had a hard time trusting Mick now, and she'd gone back to her fucking assassins the second it looked like they weren't coming back for her.

So when Len showed up again in Mick's room, lounging on his bed with a book in hand like he belonged there, Mick let a sigh of relief wash over him because Len wouldn't judge him. Len wouldn't isolate him like the others were doing. Len would _trust_  him.

"You look like shit, Mick," Len commented, not bothering to look up from his book as the pyro stripped off his jacket and tossed it on a bench nearby. These days he rarely took it off, didn't want the others to see his scars. Most of them had seen them before, but they were just a reminder of what he'd done, what he was, and like they needed anymore reminders. "You takin' care of yourself?"

Mick shrugged and sat on the floor, leaning his back against the bed and dropping his head back onto it. He was exhausted from the mission they'd just finished, his muscles ached and his fingers were singed from keeping his gun blasting for too long and the metal burning his hands.

He could almost swear he felt Len's fingers brushing absentmindedly against his scalp as he continued reading, and Mick let his eyes close. His silence must have been answer enough because Len grunted. "Gotta take care of yourself, Mick. Lisa'll kill me if she sees you like this."

"Man's got a right to mourn," Mick grunted.

"True, but you don't have a right to kill yourself off," Len replied, just as cooly, but Mick could hear the hint of worry under the words. He'd heard it plenty of times over the years and while no one else might be able to register it, he always could. "Have you been eating at all? Other than beer?"

Mick didn't answer again for a long time, focusing more on the whisper of wind over his scalp and imagining that it was actual Len's fingers he could feel. After long enough, he grunted and stretched his legs out in front of him. "Beer's one of the food groups," he argued, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Who are you talking to?"

Mick tensed immediately, hand wrapping around the gun on his hip and eyes flying open to meet Amaya's in the doorway. Fuck, had he forgotten to close his door? He was forgetting a lot of things lately. She didn't look scared at the action, only raised a curious eyebrow as she looked around his empty room. Mick didn't have to turn to know Len was gone, he always was when someone else showed up, so he shrugged and waved a hand towards the ceiling, not relaxing, but letting go of the gun at least. "Gideon... tellin' me I shouldn't drink s'much," he lied. The computer wouldn't contradict him, so why the hell not? They didn't trust him anyway.

Amaya hummed, narrowing her eyes in a way that suggested she didn't believe him, but she shrugged. "Well she's right. Speaking of which, we're all headed to the mess hall for dinner if you want to join us?"

Her words sounded strangely hopeful, and Mick knew she could see through him, see the pain in his eyes. Probably because she knew that pain when she looked at herself. But still, the idea of going into a room full of people who could barely look at him without glaring wasn't very appetizing, so he shook his head. "Nah, 'm too tired. Gonna catch some sleep 'fore the capt'n calls us out for somethin' new. I'll get somethin' later."

It wasn't completely a lie, Mick was planning on sleeping, but he'd honestly probably forget about eating later like he told her. 

Amaya didn't argue. She never did.

\--

Turns out Mick not eating or sleeping brought Len by more often, mostly to yell at him or complain about how he looked terrible, but it brought him none the less. And Mick would take whatever he could get.

He'd never really been clingy, not when Len was alive, and he still wasn't. But Len had always been his... his sanity, for lack of a better term. He calmed him down, reminded him that he was okay, that he was _there._  Len never treated him like he was stupid, never underestimated him. He always listened when he had an idea, even if it was in hindsight, a dumb one. They had their fair share of fights, sure, what married couple didn't? But it never lasted.

So when Mick had gone three days without anything more than a few beers and a sandwich or two, Len was chattering worriedly in his ear, even when he stalked onto the bridge.

"You're no good to them on a mission like this, Mick," Len drawled, but again he could hear the worry in his tone. "You'd never go on a job like this, you're bound to get someone hurt, or yourself."

The arsonist ignored him as he always did in the presence of others, instead taking a spot towards the back of the room where he could watch and listen without getting too much in anyone's way. They were all talking over one another, throwing ideas around on how best to steal whatever object they were planning on stealing- as it didn't belong in this current time anyway and Gideon advised them to return it home before it could change time permanently. No one bothered to ask Mick his opinion- Mick who had spent his entire life thieving. Sure, Len was the plan guy, Mick was the muscle, but that didn't mean Mick couldn't plan a job perfectly fine on his own. He'd done it long before he met Len.

But no, instead they were going to get themselves caught because they were sending haircut in instead- all because he could shrink. Great idea.

"Take Mick with you," Sarah ordered after the plan had been hatched. "It'll be good to have some extra muscle as back up in case something goes south." Because that's all he was to them now, muscle. She turned a glare on him however, which had stopped phasing him a long time ago, and pointed a finger in his direction. "No setting anything on fire unless you have absolutely no other choice. Got it?"

"You can't go, Mick," Len pushed, sidling up beside him so close that Mick might have felt his heat if he were really there. "You can barely stand on your own right now. Tell her no."

Instead, the rogue shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. "No fire, got it."

Sarah blinked in surprise, probably at how easily he'd given in, and he ignored the pity look that Amaya sent him.

"Actually Captain," Gideon spoke up, drawing all their attentions upward. "I would advise Mr. Rory remaining on the Waverider," she said, causing Mick to sense and push himself off the wall, ready to argue. "He is not in peak condition, and could be a liability should anything go wrong."

Great, now a _computer_  didn't trust him. Mick scowled at the ceiling and clenched his fists. "Bullshit, 'm fine!"

Sarah trusted Gideon more though and she settled Mick with a look. "Are you sick?"

"Yes," Len said to Mick, "tell her yes. I'm not going to let you go out there when you can barely throw a punch."

"I can throw a punch fine," Mick growled in response, only barely recognizing too late that he'd spoken to Len and not Sarah, but the assassin didn't seem to notice, only raised an eyebrow at him. When he spoke next, it was to her and his voice was as low and dangerous as he could get it. "I can be yer muscle, 's all I'm good for ain't it?"

The shocked looks from the others pulled a growl out of Len and Mick knew it was because they didn't know what to do with him, or what his anger could mean for them. They knew they were being accused of something, but none of them knew what and that pissed Len off more than Mick's unhealthy habits did.

Before Sarah could answer, Mick turned on his heal and headed for the cargo bay. "Come get me when yer ready, haircut."


	2. An Offer of Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mick gets hurt during a mission and doesn't say anything. Amaya offers to help.

Mick wanted to be smug at the fact that the mission had gone relatively smoothly. He wanted to give Len that big 'I told you so' grin he usually did when he was right, because he _had_ been right. Sarah's plan was shit and haircut nearly got them caught more than once had it not been for Mick. But Mick knew what he was doing, and though Len was still pissed that he'd gone on the mission anyway, he was whispering warnings and advice in his ear that had the plan going off without a hitch- for the most part.

Some security might have shown up towards the end on their way out of the house, and Mick might have lit a few of them on fire, burning his gun too hot again and scorching his hands, but he'd been able to throw a punch and despite what Len had predicted, Mick stayed on his feet the whole time.

At least until he made it back to his room. 

He groaned as he leaned against the wall just inside, dropping his head against it and for once enjoying the cold temperature that greeted him from the metal. He'd dropped his gun the instant the doors slid shut, breathing a sigh as the heat left his already burning hands. He knew if he looked down at them, he'd see the ugly blisters and the puckering skin, new scars ready to form on top of old ones.

He couldn't find it in himself to care though.

Mick barely made it to his bed before collapsing, his chest heaving with just the effort to do that. His stomach was aching, reminding him that he needed to eat, but god dammit he was too tired to even ask Gideon for food.

Probably one of the biggest signs that Mick was off his game was that he didn't wake up when Amaya knocked, or when she entered his room, bandages weighing her down. He didn't even wake up when she sat down beside him on the bed and shook him. She'd managed to get through cleaning and wrapping one of his hands before he finally managed to pry his eyes open with a groan, the pain of the pressure on his hand drawing him from the darkness that sleep promised.

"What'r you doin', doll," Mick asked, words slurred from exhaustion, but he didn't fight her has she reached for his other hand.

"I came to check on you earlier," she told him quietly, reaching over to the wall panel to dim the lights just enough so they didn't burn Mick's eyes but so that she could still see. "Ray said you guys were fine, but I just wanted to make sure. I saw your hands. You should have let Gideon fix them up for you," she scolded, though the tone in her voice suggested she had expected as much.

Len was there with them as well, sitting in the center of the bed against the wall, his legs thrown over Mick's as he glared at his husband. "She's right. You're an idiot."

"You're an idiot," Amaya mimicked, though she hadn't heard the hallucination. "Just so you know."

The dead rogue gestured to her as if to say 'see?' and Mick just grunted. "So I've been told. Would'a tended t' it eventually."

She was silent as she worked on cleaning his hand, picking off dead skin and rubbing ointment onto it as gently as she could while still making sure it was rubbed in. Len made a few comments in the silence about liking the new girl, though he'd never really met her. She seemed to care at least, but Mick knew it was only because he'd only betrayed them once as far as she was concerned, and it was for a man he'd know for years, compared to a team they'd only been on a few months. She wasn't there when he turned against them the first time, or when he became Chronos. She wasn't there at the beginning to meet the Mick he'd been when Rip recruited them, the real Mick. 

"It's okay to miss him," she said quietly once she'd started wrapping gauze around his wrist and up his hands. She felt him tense under her grip and he turned his head away from her to look at the wall, pointedly avoiding Len's sad expression as well. "Sara told me you and him were close, that you've been partners for a long time."

He shrugged, not really trusting her with any information past that.

"How long have you guys known each other?"

Mick pretended to think about it, though he didn't have to. He could probably tell her the exact day if he wanted to. "Twenty-seven years," he said quietly, holding back a wince as she cut off the current round of gauze to start wrapping his fingers. "We met in juvie, Snart was... fourteen I think, I was seventeen. Been partners ever since." That wasn't news to anyone on the ship other than Amaya and Nate, so he didn't mind telling her. Plus, the fond look that Len was giving her had Mick melting a bit and relaxing under her skilled hands.

"That's a long time," she hummed, not condescending or pitying, just a fact. "I wasn't with Rex nearly that long, but it still hurt like hell when he died."

It took a moment for her words to click, and even Len looked surprised, as Mick turned a careful gaze to her. She wasn't look at him, instead hyper focused on his hand, but he knew she knew. The way she said that was for a reason and she was giving Mick the chance to deny if he wanted, though they both knew he wouldn't. She continued on anyway. "It was really hard for me after that, but I moved on. I didn't know Snart, but he probably would want you to at least take care of yourself, or ask for help if you need it. _Are_ you taking care of yourself? Because you look like shit, no offense."

Mick turned his eyes to the ceiling at that. He'd never been good at asking for help, never knew how. It'd taken almost six years for him to even trust Len enough to ask him for help, but even then, the other rogue usually knew anyway without Mick having to ask. 

That was the big thing. Mick wouldn't really claim he was depressed at Len dying. He was probably over reacting to most people's standards, but as cheesy as it sounded, living without Len was _hard_. Mick was so used to his partner being there to help control his rage, help control the madness that he'd been born with. He was used to Len calming him down or reading him like a fucking book so Mick didn't have to talk so much. He was used to Len shoving food at him when he forgot to eat, or switching his beer for water when he thought he had too much.

Some people might think Mick wasn't eating, or wasn't taking care of himself, _because_ Len died and he was sad. But really, it was just Mick reverting back to how he was before Len. Reverting back because... well he didn't know how to live a normal life.

Mick wasn't good at taking care of himself, didn't care enough about his own preservation. Len had done it for him.

When Amaya finally finished his hand, she stood long enough to dump the dirty rags and bandages in the trash before taking a seat beside him again. He was grateful for her presence, as well as her silence. She knew he didn't like to talk, and he knew she wasn't going to push him for answers he didn't want to give.

"Can I help?" Amaya asked after he'd almost fallen asleep again. He grunted and shrugged which made Len sigh beside them.

He knew the rogue would be kicking him now if he could, so Mick peeked his eyes open and looked at her for a long minute. She didn't flinch under his gaze or turn away, she just stared right back like she knew he was sizing her up, trying to determine if he could trust her not to turn him away like the others. Finally he sighed and shoved himself into a sitting position, reluctantly accepting the woman's help when a shock of pain was sent through his hands. When he was more comfortable sitting next to her, he spoke. "You asked earlier if I was takin' care 'f myself..." she nodded, encouraging him to go on and he shrugged, turning his eyes to Len. His husband was watching him carefully, face perfectly blank, but head tilted in a way to show he was interested in what was happening. Mick wondered if he was trying to gauge if Amaya was trustworthy enough as well, or if he was interested in the fact that Mick had come to the conclusion that maybe something was wrong. "I've never been good at that," he confessed, looking away from the small hint of a smile that Len gave him, a proud smile that Mick knew he didn't deserve. "Snart kept me in line, made sure I wasn't killin' myself."

Amaya nodded and patted his knee before standing and walking towards one of the wall panels in his room. She typed something in and a few seconds later she was back with a plate, a large sandwich and some chips stacked on top, and a glass of water. She handed them to him and he didn't argue. 

"I know I can't replace him or anything, so that's not what this is," she started, smiling sweetly at him and Mick found his stomach churning at the show of kindness. As an excuse to do something with his hands, he gingerly- wary of his injury- picked up his sandwich and took a bite from it. "But I can at least make sure you're eating and not ignoring your injuries. Is that okay? I know you still don't know me very well, but you can trust me. If you need help..." she let the sentence hang, leaving it up to him to accept the invitation or not.

Mick remained silent as he ate.

"I like her," Len said after Amaya finally left- though not until she'd watch Mick eat at least 3/4ths of his sandwich. "She's the only one out of these bunch of idiots that even noticed anything was wrong."

"Is somethin' wrong, Lenny?" Mick grumbled as he huddled himself under the covers like a goddamn jilted school girl. 

Len sighed and sat down on the bed, though it didn't bounce with his weight like it would have if he were there. "Mick, I can't be with you right now, not like you need. So I need someone to make sure you don't die on me. I need someone to make sure you take care of yourself since you're shit at doing it yourself. Since you insist on staying on this stupid ship with these idiots who couldn't give a damn about you, Lisa can't be that someone. This Amaya girl... well I can't say I trust her yet, but she seems to at least be able to read you."

Mick closed his eyes and imagined he could feel Len's heat beside him, imagined he could feel his thin body pressed against the front of his own. "She's not you, Len. Never will be..."

"Don't go getting soft on me now, Mick," Len scolded in his familiar drawl. "You'll make me cry."


	3. Arsonist's Lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mick has a panic attack. Nate isn't sure what to make of the arsonist and his girlfriend. Amaya learns how to better handle Mick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning in this chapter for panic attacks. Uh... that's it lol Enjoy!

It didn't go unnoticed by the crew of the Waverider that Amaya had been growing closer to Mick. She had on a few occasions physically dragged him out of his room and into the kitchens to eat- though after three times, he'd started going willingly. He still rarely spoke unless spoken to, and usually the only ones talking to him were Nate and Amaya, occasionally Sara. He in turn didn't miss the strange looks they would send the darker skinned girl, and he pretended to ignore the hushed conversations he would over hear when one of the crew warned her about trusting him.

Honestly if they had such a hard time with trusting him, they should just ask him to leave. He'd do it if they asked.

He told Len as much and the rogue only sneered in the crews direction. He wasn't happy with any of them either, especially Sara who- Mick now knows- kissed him right before he died. Len spouted curses at her all the time, ranting about how she of all people should understand Mick, should see that he's loyal. She of all people should know that he's not the darkness that swirls around inside him like an inferno. 

Len was getting more and more angry by the day, which made Mick more and more anxious because he wasn't used to Len's outward anger. It would seem that since he was the only one that could see the rogue though, Len had no problem losing his _cool_. 

It didn't help that they had been stuck in the temporal zone for the past two weeks- something about hiding from space pirates, honestly he didn't pay much attention anymore to why they did things. Point was, they were stuck in the ship, and Mick had never been good at stuck. He and Len moved around too much, he fought too much. He didn't like standing still for too long and it was making him... irritable. When Amaya had tried pulling him out of the gym one day, he'd locked her out and set his gun on the handle so it was too hot for her to touch.

"Very mature, Mick," Len had commented and Mick had ignored him.

Sixteen days into their 'vacation' though, Mick wasn't doing so well, and Len could see his panic attack coming a mile away, even before the arsonist woke up screaming- luckily his room had long ago been soundproofed thanks to Gideon. He hadn't had a panic attack for months, not since Len died, but the memories of Chronos, of what the time masters had done to him occasionally still haunt his dreams.

God he wish he could feel Len right now. He knew the rogue was talking to him, trying to calm him down with his voice but that had never been enough, not after what they did. Gods, he was pathetic. He couldn't live without Len, couldn't function without Amaya... now he was panicking over people who were long dead and couldn't even get to him anymore.

"Gideon! Get Amaya," Len yelled, though they both knew the computer couldn't hear him. "Damnit! Mick, Mick listen to me, I need you to breathe."

"Mr. Rory," Gideon chimed in, her voice calm but the metallic edge to it sent another wave of memories crashing into his skull. His breathing grew rapid and he curled into a ball in the corner of the bed, muscles and fingers twitching as he struggled to draw in enough air. "I've called for Miss Jiwe, she asked me to notify her if you should ever need assistance."

_I need you to stop talking,_  he thought, his nerves prickling and going haywire at every word the computer spoke. _I need Len._

It seemed like hours before his door slid open and two pairs of feet thudded into the room. 

"Mick," Amaya called, stopping halfway into the room at the sight of the massive man clutching at his head and breathing heavy. Nate, who had been spending the night with her, was close behind, eyes wide in shock at what he was seeing. Gideon hadn't bothered explaining to them both _why_  Mick needed assistance, just that he was in distress and Amaya was needed. Amaya took a slow step forward, hands outstretched like she was approaching a wild animal (ha, get it?) and voice low and calming. "Mick? It's me, Amaya, can you hear me?" He flinched, making her stop a foot from the bed and try another tactic. "Gideon, uh... how did Snart help him? What did he do when he was like this?"

"No-" Mick managed to gasp out, shaking his head and looking up at the girl with wide eyes. "N-no Gideon..."

"Okay, no Gideon." The woman nodded, swallowing slowly as she turned to her boyfriend. "Nate, can you go see if Gideon has any weighted blankets in the med room? Those'll help, and grab something to eat as well, something light- a sandwich, some crackers, I don't care." The man nodded before rushing off to do as he was asked, and Amaya turned back to the pyro. "Mick, can I touch you? Will that be okay?" She waited until the man nodded before climbing into the bed with him, having to stay on her knees in order to wrap her arms around his shoulders. He was tense and shaking, his skin sweaty, but it didn't seem to bother her. "Just breathe with me, okay?"

Len was watching from the edge of the bed- he'd stopped pacing, thank god, but he was still clearly worried. He wasn't used to not being able to help Mick during his rare panic attacks, especially when Mick so often helped with his.

A few minutes later Nate was back, his face creased with worry and unease as he put the blanket on the bed and the plate of food on the table nearby. He fidgeted for a moment, unsure of what to do now, before Amaya told him to go back to bed. He looked almost relieved to be going, and Mick might have felt even worse if he'd been paying enough attention. Amaya managed to maneuver the much larger man into laying down, his head in her lap and the weighted blanket draped across his chest. She put her hand on his chest as well, not sure if it'd help but feeling like it needed to go there anyway, and her other hand drew abstract designs on the skin of his forehead. She leaned her head back against the wall and started humming some old ditty that her mom used to sing to her when she had nightmares, knowing Mick wouldn't really want to talk through the panic attack, if he even could.

After a while, Mick threw his arm over his eyes and muttered a quiet, "Arsonist's Lullaby."

"Hmm?"

"Song Len used t' sing. Thought it was funny," Mick told her. "Had a decent voice," he remembered. Len had started singing the song around the house right after it'd come out, whispering it under his breath as he worked on his plans or helped Mick cook. If Mick paid enough attention, he could catch Len tapping the tune with his fingers in Saints or while waiting for someone to show up for a job. He'd never really understood how _right_  that song was for Mick until his husband had used it to calm down Mick's first panic attack after Chronos. "He even sang in puns..."

He half expected Len to snark back at him about singing Frozen any chance he got to annoy his husband, but when he glanced around a second later, Len was nowhere to be seen. 

Amaya though had a gentle smile on her face, her eyes still closed. Mick could see the exhaustion in her features, see the bags under her eyes. He wanted to say sorry for waking her, for pulling her away from Heywood. He wanted to thank her in some way, show her that he appreciated her doing the things he couldn't.

But he didn't know how.

So instead he stayed quiet until she fell asleep again. He moved slowly, as not to wake her, and wrapped her in the blanket Nate had brought, before carrying her towards the room he knew they both were staying in. The doors opened without him asking and Heywood's head shot up from the book he was flipping through. He looked a bit unsure, but shifted aside in the bed so Mick could lay Amaya next to him. He didn't miss the almost pained look the arsonist had when he saw the girl curl up against Nate's side, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared and Mick took a slow step back, ready to retreat before either of them could say something stupid.

"I uh..." Nate paused, rubbing a hand on his neck as Mick froze, obviously nervous and Mick was torn between feeling bad for making the guy like that, and being pissed that he couldn't seem to get anyone to trust him. "I don't know what's going on," the historian continued, sitting up enough to watch Mick carefully. "Amaya's pretty worried about you though. I uh... just wanted to let you know that, you know, if you need anything... the people on this ship care about you. I mean, they're still mourning over your friend- Snart... but they'll get over it, you'll get over it. Just... don't let it tear you apart, yeah?"

Mick didn't know what to say to that, didn't know what to think.

On the one hand, he wanted to scream because the others weren't acting weird because they were mourning, they were acting weird because Mick was a goddamn menace to society and they hated him. On the other hand, he wanted to thank the kid for the thoughts, but assure him he'd be fine on his own.

Instead, he grunted and shrugged, turning to walk out of the room, but not before saying, "thanks fer the san'wich... tell yer girl she was a bit off pitch."

\--

That night seemed to cement Amaya and Mick's strange friendship because he found himself protecting her more often than not in the field, and talking to her late into the night about stupid things he never used to tell anyone about him and Len. He still didn't talk much if he could help it- he liked to listen to her stories instead about her time- but he'd pitch in every once in a while with stories that would relate to hers.

He told her about the punk he'd stopped in juvie from sticking Len with a shiv, about the next 18 months where no one would even look in Len's general direction and how Len would somehow keep Mick from getting thrown in isolation as much as he probably should have been.

He told her about the day they'd gotten caught after lifting some old necklace that Lisa had wanted and Len more or less proposed. More like he'd told the judge to get a marriage license while he was at it, and just shot Mick a questioning look. Mick had just shrugged because it wouldn't really change anything in their relationship other than be on file. He knew Len did it more for the entertainment of throwing off the judge, for the theatrics, but that was okay with him.

He told her about when he'd gone back a few years later on their fifth anniversary to steal the necklace again as a surprise for Len, only to find the rogue had already lifted it for Mick to find once he'd gotten back  to their safe house.

Len was still around a lot, tossing in his own comments and complaints when Mick told the story wrong or differently than he would, though Amaya couldn't hear him of course.

After two months of them being friendly, the girl had started getting a handle on how to... well handle, Mick. She made sure to give him food when she knew he hadn't eaten. She'd drag him outside- if possible- and challenge him to a fist fight when he was starting to get antsy. It also gave Mick an excuse to teach her how to fight properly as she might not always have her necklace to rely on. Gideon would let her know whenever he had panic attacks, though it wasn't very often- only two more times after the first time.

Mick in turn started trusting her and Nate more. The historian was a welcome companion when Mick wanted company but didn't want to talk, as he'd let him hang around his little office/library as he did research. Mick even started reading a few of the books that were around that interested him- picking a few that he knew Len had loved. He also found himself seeking out Amaya- and on occasion Nate if she was unavailable- if he ever got hurt because he didn't want to go to Gideon or the doc.

He'd never ask for help, just walk up to her with some bandages and she'd lead him away to his room to help patch him up.

Ray had commented on it once, asking Mick if he was okay to which the arsonist wasn't exactly sure how to respond. It'd been the first time that any one outside of the newbies had started showing concern for him again. He was used to them thinking he was fine taking care of himself. So he just rolled his eyes and smirked. "Thanks, haircut, but I can handle some cuts and bruises jus' fine."

Ray hadn't brought it up again, but he'd smiled a bit at the fact that Amaya still followed him out of the room to help.

Maybe Mick would be okay after all...


	4. Can't Fix Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len hasn't visited Mick in a while and he's getting nervous. They visit Central for a mission and he goes to Caitlin for help.

As much as Mick should probably worried that he'd been seeing Len around again, he found himself getting anxious whenever he didn't show up after a few days. It happened every once in a while and Len would always make some joke about being called away for work, but he always came back looking... tired, with black rings under his eyes and his cheeks a bit sunken in.

Mick wanted to question it, but he never did.

Now though, he'd been gone for almost a week, and Len had never disappeared on him for longer than three days without leaving word- even when he'd been alive. The crew was noticing too, not just Amaya and Nate who had sort of been placed on unofficial Mick-Duty. Sara had started watching him like she was ready for him to run, Stein shot him worried yet scientific looks- like he was watching chemicals combine, ready for them to explode. Jax pretty much stayed clear of him, but every once in awhile when he noticed Mick pacing around the ship, he'd get the arsonist to help him fix something or another, keep him busy. Ray tried to pry the cause of his anxiety out of him a few times, but after walking out of Mick's room with a black eye the third time, he'd finally given up.

Now they were back home in central after helping out the Flash on some mission and they were all gathered in the cortex of Star Labs. Mick was... twitchy, more so than the Flash which was saying something. Everyone was noticing, giving him strange side looks that had Mick practically growling in frustration.

Part of Mick was telling him to talk to Doctor Snow. She was literally a brain doctor, even if Gideon or Stein couldn't find anything the first time he'd been seeing Len, maybe she could. Another Part of him hated having to ask a stranger for help- not that she was that much of a stranger, but still. God he wished Len was here to yell at him right now, to push him into doing it for his sake, to make sure nothing was _actually_  wrong with him. But at the same time... if there was something wrong, Mick wasn't sure he wanted the doc trying to fix it. He just wanted Len back from... wherever he'd gone.

When everyone disappeared to their own corners of the labs- or home to their families like Jax and Stein- Amaya finally found Mick in the kitchens nursing a beer, an untouched sandwich in front of him. 

She sat down next to him and immediately asked, "what can I do?"

She long ago stopped asking if he was alright or what was wrong, because Mick never told her. She knew guys like Mick, knew they were too gruff to actually ask for help or admit that something was wrong. So she chose to skip over those questions and just ask how she could help instead, usually it worked.

Mick was quiet for a while, moving the bottle in his hand so he could watch it swirl around through the dark glass. Amaya was patient, letting him answer in his own time.

"Need t' talk t' the doc," he said after a while, not bothering to look to know that Amaya had a shocked expression on her face. Mick had always made a point of coming to her for help when he needed patched up, flat out refused to have Gideon look him over- though she still didn't know why- and didn't trust doctors enough to talk to Stein again. So him asking to talk to Caitlin was a shock. Amaya swallowed, tilting her head a bit as she watched him. Mick shrugged, knowing she was trying to figure out why. "S'mething's wrong," he said simply, not willing to elaborate just yet. He didn't like repeating himself.

"Alright," she said simply, standing and holding out a hand. Mick wasn't sure if she was asking for his beer, or his gun, or his hand, but he ignored the hand all together, setting his drink down and stalking out of the room. He didn't need to tell her that he wanted her with him, the fact that he'd told her at all was proof enough, so Amaya stuck close to him as they walked through the halls towards the medical room.

The closer they got, the more twitchy Mick became. He hated doctors, especially ones that messed with brains. After Chronos, he didn't trust a lot of medical procedures. Though he wouldn't say it, he was glad Amaya was with him, because he'd told her a little bit about his time with the time masters, enough that she knew it was the main source of his anxiety normally- though the main source right now was that Len was _gone._

Barry and Caitlin were in the med bay muttering over something on the screen when they entered and Mick tensed immediately beside her. They turned towards the new comers, eyebrows raising in surprise.

"Hey guys! What's up?" Barry asked cheerfully.

Mick thought about turning around right then, not wanting to deal with the speedster's big puppy eyes as he tried to figure what was wrong with him. Amaya must have known this because she folded her hands behind her back, giving her the chance to grab Mick's hand out of view from them, rooting him in his spot. "Hi Barry! I was actually hoping to talk to Caitlin if that's alright? It's uh... you know, personal stuff," she said with a small giggle and blush.

It was like she'd flipped a switch and Barry was blushing and stuttering about as he nodded to her. "Of course! Yeah! I'll see you later, yeah Cait?" The doctor nodded and the speedster was gone in a flash. (hah, because that's not overused.)

Caitlin smiled at them and looked pointedly at Mick. He knew she still didn't completely forgive him for tying her to a bomb, but after he'd joined the legends, she seemed to tolerate him a little more. "That means you too, Mick," she said sternly, waving to the door.  "Doctor patient, you know the drill."

"Actually," Amaya chimed in quickly before Mick could change his mind. She moved, letting go of his hand so she could push him forward enough to close the door. "Mick's the one who wanted to talk to you."

Caitlin's shocked expression wasn't missed on him and he shrugged, crossing his arms. There was an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach as she waited for him to speak. Normally when he spoke to Amaya about personal stuff, Len was around to make it easier. He could almost pretend that he was talking to Len instead. So naturally it took him a minute or two before finally grunting out, "need ye t' look at my head," he told her.

Caitlin's curious expression immediately switched to that of a concerned doctor and he was grateful that even if she didn't like him, she could still be professional towards him. Amaya stayed by the door as a silent support as the brunette doc motioned for him to sit on the bed. "What do you mean? Are you feeling any pain? Were you hurt during the mission?"

He waited as she checked his eyes with a little light, barely flinching when she reached out to start feeling around his skull for any bumps.

"No," he said simply. She dropped her hands and took a step back, sending him a look to tell him she was waiting for some sort of explanation. Problem was, even if she was here as his support, Mick had never told Amaya that he'd been seeing Len, so telling Snow was even harder to do. So he took a deep breath and just forced himself to say it. "I've been seein' Snart."

Amaya's eyes widened and he could practically see the gears sliding into place as she realized why he'd been acting the way he was since Doomworld. Caitlin frowned in consideration. "You've been hallucinating him? For how long?"

Mick shrugged. "Happened a while before the legion made things go to shit. Stein said there was nothin' wrong. So's I ignored it. Went away after..." he glanced at Amaya and swallowed, crossing his arms over his chest in a clearly defensive move. He pretended that he was thinking through the past few months while Caitlin waited, tapping away notes on her tablet. "Started back up after we fixed the timeline," he said. 

"That's been months, Mick," Amaya breathed in surprise. "You've been seeing him the whole time?"

He shrugged his massive shoulders, not really wanting to expand on how _often_ he saw Len. "Pretty much... somethin's wrong though," he told them, looking up at Snow. "He's gone."

"What do you mean?"

"What I said," Mick growled, running a hand over his bald head in frustration. "Ain't seen 'im all week... he's jus' gone."

Amaya looked up to the doctor now, worried frown on her lips. "Shouldn't that be a good thing?"

Caitlin hummed and bit at her lip. "Well it depends on why he's gone really. If you were just hallucinating him out of grief, well then it's possible he's gone because you've just moved on, buut," she said with a roll of the eyes as he glared at her, "judging by the look on your face, I guess that's not the case. Still, if there's a medical cause to it... hallucinations don't tend to just stop. I'll need to run some tests, do some scans to see if there's anything physical in your brain that could be causing them."

She motioned to a chair further along in the room, high tech with a little halo at the top where the head went.

Something clenched in his chest and his muscles froze with... fear? Anxiety? There were memories pushing against his skull, threatening to be remembered and Mick refused to let them surface. He shook his head, glaring at the chair before addressing the doc. "There another way you c'n do 'em?"

She frowned in surprise but shook her head. "Not unless you want to get in an older machine, the big MRI ones that they use at hospitals. This one's faster and goes a bit deeper."

Mick was already standing and moving towards the door, his muscles shaking when Amaya put a hand on his chest to stop him. "Mick, hey," she addressed him, looking up with that worried look in her eyes. "I know you don't like medical machines, but if you're sick... well if anyone can fix it, it'd be Caitlin. Just let her look."

He shoved past her anyway, back into the cortex where most of the team was gathered.

Caitlin and Amaya followed and Nate immediately stood, concern flickering over his face as he saw Mick. "Heatwave," Caitlin called from the doorway, "ignoring it could make it worse."

That drew everyone's attention and Sara frowned, turning to her crew member. "Make what worse? What's going on?"

"Nothin'," the rogue growled, though he'd frozen in his spot. How could it make it worse? Len was already gone, there was nothing worse than that. His eyes trailed over to Sara though, finding the ring that hung on a chain around her neck. Len had been pissed that he gave it to her, gave him a huge lecture the first time he saw Sara wearing it instead of Mick. He'd given it to Mick _for a reason_ , he'd told him. But his husband couldn't stand seeing it, couldn't stand the weight in his pocket reminding him that Len was gone. Giving it to Sara, the only other person on the ship that might have understood his pain, seemed like the only option. 

"Mick, let me fix it if I can," Caitlin tried again.

He turned on her then, glaring so hard that she took a shocked step back and Barry took a cautious step forward. "I don't need ye t' fix me, doc. I want 'im back." Her eyes widened in realization and Mick growled in warning. "Ye find out what's wrong, yer goin' t' cut it out of me, make it so he can never come back. It was a mistake comin' t' ye."

"Mick-" Amaya started, but her boyfriend stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

It was silent for a long time, half of the room trying to decide if Mick was going to explode, the other half trying to figure out how to comfort him. Everyone though was confused- save for Amaya and Nate.

Because why was Mick so torn up? Len was just a partner, just some guy who gave him orders. Mick had lost plenty of so called friends in the field, why was Len any different?

Because they hadn't told anyone the truth about their relationship, never saw the need. Wasn't their business and no one bothered to ask.

"They're just worried about you, Mick."

A strangled sound came from Mick's throat and he turned on his heel, eyes locking with his husband's across the room.

Len looked worse than he ever did before after coming back. His skin was deathly pale and he barely had any meat on his bones. He was leaning against the door frame next to Caitlin, arms crossed over his chest, but Mick could tell it was more to hold himself up than it was to look cool. His breathing was ragged and his skin was dry, bruises under both eyes. He looked worse than Mick.

"Mick?" Caitlin said carefully, frowning. "What is it?"

But it was the kid who answered, The Flash who took a step forward, looking past Mick and past the doctor and straight at Len. "It's Snart," he said quietly.

Len's eyes widened just a fraction in surprise, and Mick turned on the speedster to make sure he wasn't fucking with him. But sure enough, Barry was staring right where Len was, his jaw hanging open and a confused joy in his eyes. 

"Hmm," Len hummed, tilting his head to the side a bit in consideration, "plot twist indeed."


	5. It's a Challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Flash and Team Legends discuss their options in saving Len. Mick listens to conversations and reveals some information the teams didn't know before.

Turns out- according to a (not dead) Harrison Wells from Earth-2 and Barry, their resident speedster- Len was most likely trapped in the Speedforce. Mick had heard of it briefly during his stint as Chronos as it's got something to do with time and time travel, but as it had nothing to do with the Oculus, he hadn't been taught too much about it other than what it was in general. The working hypothesis was that when Len blew up the said time controlling machine, instead of dying, he was shot into a time stream, in their case, the speedforce.

It was clear that most of the Legends crew didn't follow along with most of that. If anything, it was Ray and Stein who followed along the most- as the two other members had come back upon hearing the news about Snart. 

Mick had stayed silent for the most part- after a short few minutes of screaming and throwing things at his husband's form- brooding in the corner with Amaya and Nate nearby to keep an eye on him. He wasn't sure how to feel honestly. By the way they were talking, it sounded like they could possibly go in and pull Len back out of the speedforce, that they could essentially bring him back from death. He'd be whole again, he'd be physical, he'd be Len. Mick would have his husband back. But understandably, he still felt nervous about actually doing it. Last time he thought he had the rogue back, it'd been a disaster and he'd lost the last shred of trust he'd gained from the Legends. Who's to say something like that couldn't happen again? 

He couldn't stand that, couldn't stand the idea that he'd get him back only to lose him _again_.

Not to mention the fact that Len looked like shit. From what the Flash explained, when someone was trapped in the speedforce, they were living through their worst hell, their worst memory. According to the kid- Wally West he'd been introduced- he had been forced to watch his mom die over and over again. It explained why Len looked almost haunted, Mick didn't have to guess who was torturing him over there, which memories he was reliving. 

Even if it was a version of Len that wasn't _his_ , he couldn't let any version live through eternity being tortured by Lewis Snart. So when they started hatching plans on how to get him back, Mick hadn't disagreed.

Amaya was a silent force beside him and he was grateful for it. She was strong and seemed to be able to read him well enough to know when he did or didn't need to talk, when he needed her support and when he just needed to be left alone. Len liked her to, because he was standing beside Mick blabbering on about how he was going to buy her a gift basket when he got back, after icing all the others of course.

Because Len was still- rightfully- pissed at how the others had been treating Mick. True, they didn't know the whole story, but it was no excuse in Len's mind. He was loyal through and through, and he _hated_  when others couldn't forgive Mick for what he'd done.

"Bet Sara would be the first one to jump ship if her assassin girlfriend came back," Len grumbled.

Mick raised an eyebrow at him and grunted, earning him a questioning look from Nate and Amaya. "Len's pissed," he explained shortly. "Thinks blondie would jump ship if her girlfriend came back to life..." he looked back at Len with a bored expression. "Didn't know she 'ad one."

The other two also looked surprised, but Amaya shrugged. "Honestly? I'd probably do the same thing you did if I were in your position," she said quietly, eyes flickering between the members scattered through the room. "If I'd been together with anyone as long as you guys have been married, if I'd have loved anyone as long as that... compared to a group of people I've only known for a few months?" She shrugged, leaving her sentence hanging but the result obvious. Nate nodded in agreement, and Len once again voiced how much he liked these two. He'd even upped his presents to two gift baskets.

Snorting, the rogue rolled his eyes and shook his head fondly. "Len says he owes ye a thank'ye gift. Gonna put t'gether baskets fer you." 

Amaya grinned wide and a small blush dusted across her cheeks as she giggled. Nate laughed and said, "tell him I like chocolates."

It was an hour later when the rest of the group had come to the decision that they could try two different things. One, Cisco could take someone into the speedforce via Vibe, as he'd done with Iris once to find Barry, and try to drag Len out of it. This was risky, and could be impossible depending on _where_  in the speedforce Len was. Or two, Barry ran into the speedforce and looked for Len himself. Problem with that option was that it might take a while because the Speedforce was a _big_  place and very confusing. But he had friends over there that might help him. Either choice, it was risky and they ran the possibility of not even being able to find Len.

It was Amaya's idea to try Barry first, as Cisco's option seemed to be the riskier of the two. They would all wait it out in the Labs, while Barry searched for their friend. If he came back empty handed, then they could try Cisco's Vibe.

Which led to the two teams sitting on various chairs, couches and floor spaces they could find in the main cortex, waiting for the speedster to return. Harry and Sara had broken out some cards and were on their fifth round of Gin, Jax watching quietly. Cisco, Stein and Ray had disappeared an hour ago to work on some sort of mechanical stuff, and Wally and Iris had gone home to explain the whole situation to their father. Caitlin was talking with Amaya about their love for soap operas, and Nate was sitting next to Mick reading a book while the rogue leaned his head on the back of the couch to take a nap. Of course he didn't actually get any sleep as he was much too nervous, but he forced his body to relax enough to make it appear that he was asleep. Amaya and Nate were probably the only two who would be able to tell if they looked close enough.

This gave him the opportunity to rest his eyes, while also listening in on all the conversations going on around the room.

"Hey Amaya," Jax said in a loud stage whisper, drawing Mick's attention towards them. "You've gotten awfully close to Mick," the kid began, some sort of awkward tilt to his voice, like he knew he shouldn't be asking questions but was going to anyway, "do you know why he's been seeing Snart but we can't? I mean, out of all of us, I would think Sara would be the one to see him."

Mick tried not to tense at that, but by the way Nate leaned into him a bit, he didn't succeed. "Why would you think that?" Sara asked, earning a snort from Len who was perched on the armrest beside Mick.

"Well, I mean you guys had a _thing_ , didn't you?" Jax asked, unsure now. "Didn't he ask Mick to give you his ring? And you guys flirted all the time."

Mick forced himself to breathe so he wouldn't blow up. Besides, Len was doing that enough for the both of them, not that Mick was paying much attention to him, because Sara was talking again. "I doubt that was ever going to happen. He totally wanted me though, poor thing."

It was Nate and Amaya's time to snort this time and Mick found himself smiling a bit.

"No offense, Sara, but you and Snart didn't stand a chance of getting together," Nate said, not looking up from his book. He didn't say more, not sure if Mick wanted him to, but he surely got everyone's attention.

"Oh? That a challenge, Heywood? You didn't even know him." Sara said, and Mick could practically hear the raised eyebrow in her voice. 

Nate leaned closer to Mick again, probably to silently ask if he's okay. Just barely, he leaned back to say he was fine. Amaya was the one who answered however, saying, "Mick told me that Snart had someone special. Never got a name though." The whole room fell silent and Mick wondered what the expressions on everyone's faces looked like. Would they be shocked? Would they believe her at all? "He uh... he's been with someone for a while now," she explained, stuttering a bit over her words and Mick knew it was because she was trying to give as little information as possible while still steering Sara away from his husband. 

"Snart? Taken? I don't believe you," Jax said quickly. "He never talked about anyone while on the Waverider, and he only visited his sister while he was here. No way he was seeing anyone."

Mick took a deep breath and let it out slowly, crossing his arms over his chest and showing the rest of them that he was indeed not asleep. "He was married." Those three words drew the reactions he was expecting as he opened his eyes. Sara was staring at him with a curious look in her eyes- the same look he saw on her when she was trying to determine if someone was lying or not. Jax's mouth was hanging open in shock, gapping like a fish and stuttering out sounds that didn't make up any actual words. Caitlin looked just as surprised, though as if she might be wracking her memory to see if she could remember any details that might back up Mick's claim. Amaya and Nate's expressions didn't change, and Harry- who seemed to care about very little- used the opportunity to cheat at the game while Sara was distracted.

"Bullshit," Sara finally said, shaking her head slightly. "He would have told me."

Mick shrugged and closed his eyes again. He didn't care if they believed him or not, wasn't their business anyway. They'd probably put the pieces together soon anyway because Mick planned on dragging his husband off the second they got him back for some much needed alone time.

"Oh we'll show her," Len sassed, rolling his eyes at the assassin. "She won't know what hit her."

"When would Snart have even gotten married? The only girl on his Rogue's Gallery is Pikaboo, and isn't she with Mardon?"

Mick grunted and affirmative, reaching up to scratch at his chin. "He's been married... seventeen years? Somewhere 'round there," he said gruffly. He was tired and didn't really care how much information he actually gave them. Truthfully, it'd never actually been a secret. Len and Mick decided long ago that they didn't care who knew- other than Lisa of course- but they wouldn't flaunt it. That was mostly because Len didn't like public displays of affection and Mick wasn't necessarily a touchy person anyway. They were both pretty private people already, so unless anyone asked, they didn't tell. A lot of people thought his husband was straight and single with how much he would flirt with women in bars- and Sara- but Mick knew it was only for jobs. Len was sexy and he knew how to work the ladies- and men if needed. He most definitely used it to his advantage when he could and Mick rarely got jealous because he knew he had no reason to be. Len had always been his, and always would be.

And Mick knew that Len's weird flirting with Sara had been to butter her up to him offering her a job on the Rogues if she wanted after they left the Legends. An assassin on his team would be a great asset.

"You know, I really can't tell if you're lying or not," Caitlin commented, the first she'd said in the conversation.

Again, all he could do was shrug.

It was another hour later before Len said, "Mick," in a tone that had his eyes flying open and he was on his feet in a second. His eyes landed on his partner who seemed to be almost flickering in and out of view, and Amaya and Nate were at his side instantly.

"What is it?" The historian asked, looking in Len's direction but not seeing anything.

"Snart-"

Len shook his head though and he was obviously breathing heavy, his crystal blue eyes narrowed and distant. "I gotta go again, Mick. I'll be back though. Tell Scarlet to be speed things up, yeah? Not sure how much longer I can handle Lewis." He wouldn't have said that if the others could hear him, but Mick growled low in his throat at the reminder of where Len was going back to. A few seconds later he was gone and Mick was clutching his hands at his sides.

"Mick? What's happening?"

He shook off Nate's hand, but allowed Amaya to take his wrist in her own grip, squeezing softly. He forced himself to breathe, eyes not leaving the spot that Len had left. He had to remind himself that Barry was looking for him, that they had options. He wasn't gone forever, not like they had thought last time. No, he was somewhere and even if Barry couldn't find him, Mick wouldn't give up until Len was back in his arms- damned the consequences. "He's gone," he said finally, letting his muscles relax a bit at the feeling of Amaya making calming circles on his wrist with her thumb. 

"He'll be back, don't worry."


End file.
